Falling is Like This
by NeiLegni
Summary: At Kurt's insistance, newly married Quinn tries to make a place for her old nemesis in her picture perfect life. Can Rachel become the friend that Quinn has always needed? Fate has a funny way of working itself out. AU Faberry. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Thanks for reading! This story goes AU before "New York" and Quinn and Finn have stayed together through graduation. This story is rated M for language and sexuality. Don't be alarmed by the very Fuinn beginning. There is LOTS of Faberry to come, I promise. Thank you for reading and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. I want to hear the good, the bad, and the ugly.

* * *

><p>The ceremony was as flawless as Kurt had promised it would be. The flowers arrived fresh and on schedule. The cake had been decorated to the minutest detail. The delicate lace of her dress skimmed smoothly down her body, her hair shone golden and bright in its waves, and her make up stayed put throughout the vows, even as tears welled in her eyes. The nights Quinn and Kurt had spent poring over copies of The Knot and Martha Stewart Wedding and Bridal Guide had paid off to make the Hudson-Fabray wedding both classic and breathtakingly beautiful. She had to hand it to Kurt; his eye for color and detail was the best wedding gift she could have asked for and she had no regrets about naming him her man of honor.<p>

* * *

><p>She left very few decisions up to Finn, who, when asked what he wanted included on the dinner menu, deemed pizza bagels and tater-tots appropriate wedding fare.<p>

"I don't get why you think it's such a bad idea. Everyone loves pizza, and who doesn't like tater tots?" he explained. "Plus, I though having bagels might make Puck and Rachel feel more comfortable, since they're Jews and it'll probably be their first time in a church."

Quinn stared at her fiancé, unable to process what she had just heard.

"Rachel Berry is not invited to our wedding." Color rose to Quinn's cheeks at the mere thought of considering the idea. What kind of man would invite his ex-girlfriend to his marriage to his high school sweetheart? She didn't know they even talked anymore.

"I just didn't think it was fair to invite the whole glee club and leave Rachel out."

"Why? It's exactly what we did all through high school."

"Yeah, and don't you feel, I don't know, a little bad about it?"

"No," Quinn snapped, "I don't. And do you know why, Finn? Because Rachel Berry used every opportunity she had to break us up for her own selfish reasons. You really don't think that she would try the same thing at our wedding?"

"I don't. You don't know her, Quinn. She's really changed."

"Oh right," she huffed. "I'm sure she's totally over her lovesick puppy dog ways. Next you'll tell me that she wears only couture and has donated all of her knee socks to some sort of orphans with cold legs charity."

"Babe, I've let you take charge of everything else, but I really want Rachel to be there. She's my friend and she's been there for me through a lot. Plus, there will be like 200-"

"168," Quinn interrupted.

"168 other people there. You don't even have to talk to her."

"Fine, you can invite manhands to our wedding, but that means no Macarena."

"But it's the only dance I can actually do!"

"You can only add one tacky aspect to our celebration, Finn. It's up to you."

"Okay, well I guess that means I pick Rachel, since I already sent her an invitation."

* * *

><p>She had called her mother after their conversation.<p>

"Quinnie, relax. No one is going to take Finn from you. He's yours. If he still loved her, why would he want her to watch while he gives himself to you?"

"I know you're right, mom, but it still seems strange."

"It will be fine, honey. She probably won't accept the invitation. And even if she does, you'll be the star and no one, not even Rachel, will be able to take their eyes off of you."


	2. Chapter 2

"By the power vested in me by the State of Ohio, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Finn kissed Quinn in the manner they had rehearsed: demure, appropriate, and sweet. No tongue. Perfect. Their family and friends cheered and they began down the aisle as the recessional music began. Quinn met her mother's eyes and beamed. Halfway down the aisle she caught sight of long dark hair cascading over the shoulder of a woman with big eyes and an even bigger mouth. She flashed Quinn a toothy grin and gave a tiny wave. Quinn smiled tight lipped and continued walking, but her thoughts stayed on Rachel. Why would she come to a wedding between her ex boyfriend and her high school rival? Was she some sort of masochist? Or had she matured more than Quinn had?

She felt Finn's hand settle on the small of her back, pulling her back to the moment. She decided to put aside worrying about Rachel and her motivations. If Rachel could grow above their petty rivalry, she could at least pretend she was capable of the same maturity.

* * *

><p>"Well you did it, and beautifully! We're officially sort of related in a complicated and convoluted way!" Kurt wrapped his arms around Quinn and pulled her into a hug, mindful not to crush the fabric of her dress. "But I could kill that florist, I swear I told them ivory ribbon with lavender edging and they send ivory with fucking lilac edging. They must have it in for me after I slept with their delivery boy and didn't call him back…but he smelled like the inside of a bag of potting soil and he-"<p>

"Kurt," Quinn hissed, pulling him aside. "Did you see who's here?"

"Basically every resident of Lima Ohio."

"Yeah, and Rachel Berry." She gestured toward Rachel, who looked enviably stunning on the dance floor. "How did you let that invitation go out?"

"I didn't think you'd mind."

"Why wouldn't I mind, Kurt? Tell me in what alternate reality it wouldn't bother a bride to have her husband's ex-girlfriend at her wedding?"

"In a reality where that particular ex-girlfriend is now a lesbian."

Quinn's hand flew to her mouth in an effort to hide her shock before it drew attention.

"Are you serious?"

"Deathly so."

"Oh come on. She's just telling you that so she can swoop in here and lure Finn away without anyone getting suspicious."

"Well," Kurt pondered, "that looks like an awful serious commitment to a surreptitious plan for revenge." He spun Quinn around just as a tall blonde spun Rachel close and brushed back the brunette's hair before Rachel rose to her toes to press a kiss to the other woman's lips.

A slow grin spread across Quinn's face as she felt the weight of her anxiety lift and relief take its place.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Quinn. There isn't a thing that she could possibly want from Finn Hudson. Don't get yourself wrapped up in her. Go enjoy your wedding!


	3. Chapter 3

"I've known these two would tie the knot the first time Finn punched me in the face over her. I won't go into why he punched me, but needless to say, I deserved it. But, and I never told you this dude, when you were beating the crap out of me that day, I knew there was something real between you and Quinn. It's something really special and something that I hope I'm lucky enough to find someday. So here's to the lucky bride and groom-William McKinley High School's favorite couple and the envy of every single person here, this guy included, Finn and Quinn. Congratulations, mazel tov, best wishes and all that. I love you guys."

It surprised Quinn to hear Puck speak with so much sentimentality and sweetness. She didn't know he was capable of such a touching tribute, and hearing his kind words made her feel badly about doubting Finn's choice to name Puck his best man. Even though unanswered questions about Beth loomed in the air, it was as if they had all silently agreed that the topic would not be breeched.

* * *

><p>As dinner plates were cleared away and the speeches drew to a close, the guests made their way back to the dance floor. Quinn used that opportunity to circulate as she kept in mind her mother's three cardinal rules of hosting.<p>

"One," Judy would say, "make sure no one goes home empty handed. Whether it's leftovers from the meal, dessert, or the phone number of a potential date, make sure everyone has some way to remember the night."

"Two," and Quinn would roll her eyes, "always be aware of every guest's dietary restrictions and allergies. My god, if we had lived ten minutes further from a hospital-"

"Uncle Dave probably wouldn't be here today," Quinn finished. Every time her mother had a party she was drilled with these rules. And she had heard the same story of Uncle Dave and his anaphylactic shock more times than she had heard the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

"And number three?"

"Make every guest feel important. Like you invited each and every one of them because you couldn't possibly bear to throw a party without them."

"Good, Quinnie. Keep those in mind and every party, from your birthday to your funeral will be flawless."

* * *

><p>Quinn breathed deeply and stole a look in one of the walls mirrored panels before approaching Rachel Berry. The fluttering in her stomach wasn't nervousness, she told herself. It was just the excitement of her wedding day carrying over. At twenty six, she should really be above their competitive nature, especially since she had won. Quinn kept this consolation in mind as she cleared her throat and gave Rachel what she hoped looked like a sincere smile.<p>

"Rachel, I'm so glad you could make it! Are you enjoying the party?"

"Quinn, everything is absolutely exquisite! If you don't mind me asking, who did your flowers? My fathers are looking for someone to handle their bi-weekly brunch flower arrangements and I'm sure they would love to call whoever did yours."

Typical Berry. Once she opened that mouth of hers, it was impossible for it to close.

"You know, I don't have the number on hand. I'm sure Kurt has one of their cards with him, though. He would be the one to ask. He planned everything."

"I know! And he did such an amazing job! Laura and I were out to lunch with him a few weeks ago and he was telling us all about how difficult it was to find a bakery in Lima who could do such detailed icing work. By the way, Quinn, your dress is lovely. Positively stunning!"

"Thank you, Rachel."

"You know, I was a little surprised when I got your invitation in the mail. I thought that you might not want me at your wedding because you thought I might use it as a chance to drive a wedge between you and Finn. I just wanted to tell you that I truly appreciate that we are able to grow past our childish games. I'm very happy for you and Finn and you two make a lovely couple."

That confirmed Kurt's story for Quinn. A world in which Rachel Berry could attend Finn Hudson's wedding without a hint of jealousy was a world where reality was so skewed that it made perfect sense that Rachel was gay.

"So Laura is your…"

"She's my girlfriend. I know it may come as a surprise to you that I've adopted the lesbian lifestyle, but I assure you nothing about me has changed other than my dating pool. We've been dating exclusively for about eight and a half months, and I have to tell you Quinn, that I've never been happier. It's like…it's like I can stop trying so hard to lure and impress and hold onto someone who isn't right for me and just enjoy the company of someone who is."

A smile spread across Quinn's lips as she saw Rachel's eyes shine.

"I'm so happy for you, Rachel. Really."

"Thank you, Quinn. The feeling is mutual. I hope we can put our past behind us and use this occasion to start fresh."

"I'd like that."

Quinn found herself in Rachel's embrace and allowed herself to be hugged.

"Call me after the honeymoon. Maybe we can get together?"

"Sure, Rachel. That would be nice." She smiled at her once more before continuing her rounds across the room. Her eyes met Finn's and he gave her a thumbs up. She smiled and turned to see Rachel wrapped in her lover's arms. For the first time Quinn looked at Rachel Berry without any envy or fear. She looked at Rachel and saw a woman who looked truly happy, and for the first time, Quinn was happy for her. She settled into the arms of her husband and allowed herself to let go of the past and look forward to her future.


	4. Chapter 4

_To: RachBerry_

_From: QuinnFHudson_

_Subject: Catching Up_

_Hi Rachel! It was so nice to see you last month at my wedding. Thank you so much for making the trip out here for the ceremony. Finn and I were so glad to see you. _

_I'm sorry we couldn't get together while you were in town. I was so busy with all of the wedding commotion. I'm sure you understand._

_I hope you're doing well, and we will have to catch up! _

_Sincerely,_

_Quinn Hudson_

* * *

><p>Quinn hesitated with her cursor hovering over send.<p>

She hadn't been too busy to meet Rachel after the wedding, but she had been too nervous to get in touch.

She put off the task as long as she could and justified it with any excuse she could come up with: she was coming down with a cold, she was just getting over a cold, the walls needed to be painted, the wedding china needed to be organized and put away and then reorganized. Quinn was much too busy to schedule a coffee date with someone she barely knew. Really. Way too busy.

If Kurt hadn't been so insistent, Quinn might have been able to avoid the task altogether.

"You know, Rachel keeps talking about meeting up with you sometime," he hinted as he straightened a stack of thank you notes.

"Subtle, Hummel. I didn't know you spent so much time with her. When did you two become so close?"

"She had a big gay panic when she was in college and needed someone to talk to. Why someone with two gay dads living in New York needed someone to tell her that being gay is okay is beyond me, but there you have it."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"She swore me to secrecy. It wouldn't be fair to her if I outed her. Plus," Kurt winced, "I thought you might think I was betraying you. Fraternizing with the enemy or something."

Which is exactly what Quinn had thought when she heard that Rachel and Kurt had been spending time together. But she wouldn't mention that.

"Water under the bridge. She really keeps talking about wanting to get together?"

"Yes. She mentions it every time we talk."

"In a weird way?"

"No! I think she really wants to mend the hurt between you two. But what do I know? I think it might kill off the rest of that remaining bitterness that you're still holding against her. Do you know how bad holding a grudge is for your skin?"

Quinn sighed and licked another envelope.

"You can't really still be intimidated by her. Is that what this avoidance game is all about?"

"No! I just don't know what we would talk about."

"Oh yes, I'm sure there would be a dearth of conversation topics. You only have the last eight years to discuss. And with Rachel Berry? I don't envy the awkward silences you two would have."

There wasn't a rebuttal that Quinn could use against Kurt's sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and pulled out a roll of stamps.

"She's not even in Lima anymore, is she? I can't imagine that she stuck around here very long."

"She's back in New York with Laura, but it's not like being in a different state means that you can't call her or email her or something. Just give it a try, Quinn. If it ends badly, you can blame me."

"Fine, I'll send her an email, but that's it."

"Your sacrifice truly brings a tear to my eye. You're a martyr."

* * *

><p>"So what did you do today?" Finn asked from across the table. He shook salt onto what Quinn thought was perfectly seasoned chicken and she winced as he squirted ketchup onto his plate.<p>

"I finished the thank you notes, showed a house to a woman and her four dogs, and started the pie crust for the church bake sale." She felt like her mother listing her mundane accomplishments. The domesticity thing was getting old already. "And I emailed Rachel. Kurt has been on my case for weeks trying to get us connected."

"What did you say to her?"

"Just that it was really sweet of her to come all the way out here for the wedding and that I was sorry that I was too swamped to get together."

"Sounds like a good peace offering to me. Have you heard back from her?"

"Not yet."

"Let me know when you do. I like the idea of you guys being friends. Maybe we could go out to NYC and visit her."

"Don't start packing your bags yet. We haven't even had a conversation. I'm just doing this because Kurt said she's been talking about getting in touch for a while."

"I think it will be good for you to have a friend who's a girl, you know? You don't have a whole lot of, like, girl friends."

Quinn flushed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. I guess I think it would be nice for you to have someone to do girl things with—like doing your nails or seeing Jennifer Aniston movies."

"You're right. I've probably been missing out all this time."

She hoped that Finn didn't pick up the bitterness in her voice. She was well aware that she tended to alienate other women and that most of her friends were men, and it wasn't the first time Finn had mentioned it. It was as if he had a deeply ingrained idea that all women in their twenties were supposed to possess Sex and the City style friendships with other women, and she felt self-conscious when he brought up her lack of an estrogen-centric social circle. She hadn't had bride's maids not because she hadn't wanted them, but because none of her guy friends could pull off chiffon.

* * *

><p>"How do you think Rachel found out she was gay?" Finn asked as the two stood side by side at the sink brushing their teeth. "Do you think she was that way in high school, because that totally makes her whole prude-ishness make way more sense. I mean, she let me get to second base, but we never got farther than that. Once I tried-"<p>

"You know," Quinn interrupted, "I'd rather not think about the sex you did or didn't have with one of your exes. That just seems like information I don't need."

Finn nodded and went back to brushing.

"Maybe it was in college. You don't think something terrible happened to her and now she like hates men because of what they represent or something?"

"Have you been watching Tyra again?"

"…Maybe."

Her mouth burned with Listerine and she focused on counting the tiles of the bathroom wall to take her mind off the sting. Finn's question wormed its way into her mind. When did Rachel discover she was gay? Did she just go to sleep one night straight and wake up the next morning a flaming homosexual? Unlikely, but what did she know?

Quinn knew that Santana was gay their first day of Cheerios practice, but young, inexperienced Santana had been careless with her wandering eyes. Then Quinn caught her kissing, and later fucking, Brittany in the locker room, or the bathroom, or behind the bleachers. Santana never was great with subtlety.

And of course Quinn knew that Kurt was gay before they had exchanged more than three words. Karofsky had taken her longer to figure out, but she wasn't entirely surprised to learn that he was gay, too.

But Rachel? Quinn never saw that one coming. As she settled into bed, her mind wandered back to high school, trying to identify anything that could have predicted the fact in front of her.

She felt the mattress sink under Finn's weight and he curled his body around her small frame. His hands stroked her arms, then her wrists, then her fingers. His lips parted against the nape of her neck and she felt his teeth graze her skin. He was hard against her.

She turned over and faced Finn.

"Babe, I'm really tired. Not tonight, okay?" He nodded and folded her into his arms. She fell asleep with her head pressed to his chest, but her mind still on his question.


	5. Chapter 5

_To: QuinnFHuds_

_From: BerryRach_

_Subject: Re: Catching Up_

_Quinn! I was so happy to hear from you! I too am sorry we didn't have the chance to meet while I was in town. Of course, I should shoulder some of the blame; I couldn't stay in Ohio very long because I was coming up on a week of auditions and I needed to get back in time in order to put the finishing touches on my pieces. Unfortunately I had to sacrifice time I could have spent reuniting with old friends, but I am pleased it was not in vain! I landed a lead! My first true lead role out of college in New York City! I'm playing Audrey in a production of Little Shop of Horrors! It isn't Broadway yet, but it is officially an off-Broadway show and a lead! Not community theater, not off-off-off Broadway, but just one step away! I could not be more excited! Though, I must admit I am a little worried…not because I don't feel that I'm up to the challenge. I know that I have the skills and the wherewithal to perform the role and perform it well, but between you and me I worry that I might not be able to carry the whole show on my shoulders. Since leaving Lima I've learned that there are a lot of talented artists with whom I will continually compete. I suppose I am finding myself intimidated by the sheer magnitude of talent that surrounds me. It's humbling to say the least. Well, at least I know there is only one Rachel Berry! I will make the role my own and stun the audience! _

_How are you and Finn doing? Did you enjoy your honeymoon? What are you up to these days?_

_Hope to hear from you soon!_

_Warmly,_

_Rachel B. Berry_

* * *

><p>Quinn let out a low whistle. She could hear Rachel's pep and ever present enthusiasm in the text of her message. How could one short email contain so many exclamation points? It was nearly as exhausting to read what she wrote as listening to her speak. How was she supposed to answer that email without popping a couple Adderall first? And a smiley face? Really?<p>

This was a mistake. They had nothing to talk about and Rachel's message only reminded Quinn that there was a reason she stayed so far away from her in high school. She could pretend she never got it. Technology is so convenient that way. She could claim that any number of unlucky things had happened that would have made the message vanish into the deep recesses of cyber space.

But then Finn would be right. She would continue to live in a social circle devoid of anyone who would understand how satisfying it could be to watch Lifetime movies while PMSing and Finn would continue to ask her why all of her friends were boys and why she didn't call Santana and Brittany to hang out ("Because," she would reply, "I can only talk about Brittany's placenta and look at paint samples for the nursery for so long," not mentioning the slight ache in the pit of her stomach watching them plan a family), and why she didn't want to go out on a double date with Puck and his girlfriend ("Why get to know her? He'll have a new one in two weeks").

Quinn could not live in a world where Finn was right—not about this. Rachel would fill the vacant role of "female friend" and Quinn would get Finn and Kurt off her back and she would get to prove how mature and forgiving she had become since high school. Maybe she could even get the full story of Rachel's coming out.

And maybe it was a twinge of curiosity that she couldn't shake that kept Rachel's message open on the screen. Rachel splayed her happiness and her excitement, along with her insecurities, across the screen. She trusted Quinn so easily with her weaknesses and her joy.

This new Rachel Berry who struggled with fear and uncertainty was someone Quinn could imagine herself tolerating.

Quinn cracked her knuckles and began a reply.

* * *

><p><em>To: BerryRach<em>

_From: QuinnFHuds_

_Subject: re: re: Catching Up_

_Rachel,_

_Don't worry Rachel; you will be great! Of course there is a lot of talent in New York (isn't that why you went out there in the first place?), but I'm sure your director saw tons of other girls before choosing you. You were most definitely picked for your talent and your ability to play the role perfectly. I have complete faith that you will blow the audience away. Congratulations!_

This is what friends did, right? Encourage each other? Quinn felt like she might be gushing and that Rachel might be suspicious of this sudden positivity. She decided to fuck her self doubt and continue writing. New mature adult married Quinn could be very supportive and cheerful. Bitterness was part of her past.

_Finn and I are doing wonderfully. We loved Hawaii and it was so nice to relax on the beach after the stress of the wedding. Finn is working with Burt at the shop (which you probably already knew. Finn told me that the two of you have been catching up on facebook). I'm working with Lima Living Realty. At first I was just working at the agency part time, but now I'm starting to enjoy it. I love the look on a client's face when they fall in love with a house. I love seeing their gaze change when they decide the house they're standing in will become their home._

Only the very last part was true. Quinn had wanted to go to law school after she and Finn had graduated from OSU, but her mother talked her out of it.

"If you're working on cases all day and Finn is working full time, who will take care of your children, Quinnie? Would you send them to day care to be raised by a stranger? If you insist on working, which I never did, you need a job that isn't so demanding!"

So she settled on real estate. It wasn't difficult and it didn't take up all of her time. She could work from home, and it kept her mother happy.

_Nothing very interesting is happening here in Lima. Your whirlwind visit home has been the talk of the town—at least for Kurt and me. I don't know if you're still in touch with anyone from the glee club but everyone I still talk to is doing well. Brittany and Santana are expecting a baby in the fall. Brittany is almost 5 months pregnant! They're so excited that they've been talking about it almost non-stop. It's so sweet._

_I'd love to hear more about what you've been up to since graduation. How was college? How did you meet Laura?_

_I have to start dinner now, but I'm sure I'll hear from you soon._

_Best,_

_Quinn_

* * *

><p>Quinn looked over the message. It seemed to be an appropriate length and it wasn't too emotionally charged. She answered Rachel's questions, added in details, and felt confident that she wasn't making some sort of major social faux pas or any spelling mistakes. Click, send, and off it went into cyberspace.<p>

Finn came through the door in a stained jumpsuit smelling of oil with a smear of grease on his cheek, but Quinn felt his hands on her waist before she turned and saw him. She stood at the kitchen counter tossing a salad when she felt his heavy hands and turned to see his smile. He kissed her cheek before reaching above her head for a glass and filled it with water from the sink.

"Good day?" Quinn asked. Finn chugged his glass of water before nodding.

"You wouldn't believe the car that came in today! It had, like, all these custom parts that weren't working right and me and Burt didn't even know what half of them were so we had to google them and they were impossible to find. And this one guy was freaked out because a dvd got stuck in the dvd player in his family's minivan and it was a sex tape with him and his secret girlfriend. He was so freaked out that he paid us three hundred dollars extra to keep it quiet. I can't tell you who it is, but you would totally freak out if you saw Azimio again if you knew what he was into…Shit!" He smacked himself on the forehead. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

Quinn grinned. "My lips are sealed."

"Good, I don't want to lose my bonus."

It was in these moments that Quinn remembered why she had fallen in love with Finn all those years ago. It was his innocence and his genuineness that drew her to him. He saw the world so simply and honestly with a brightness that she had never seen. Finn had been subject to hardship, just like she had, but he came out of those challenges in a completely different way than she had. She emerged from her family's hypocrisy and insanity and her own ugly duckling insecurities bitter and self conscious. Finn had moved past his struggles with positivity and hope. Maybe Quinn's attraction to him came from a place where she hoped she could embody some of the same traits he displayed.

"I love you," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair.

"I love you, too." He moved closer until Quinn was backed against the counter. His fingers ran down her sides, past the hem of her shirt, upwards brushing her skin, with him, always at the ready, pressing against her thigh.

Then there was that.

The sex.

She hated it. It was messy and uncomfortable and he made these stupid faces and he was always so fast so just when it started to get somewhere halfway decent it was over.

"Finn," she said in what she hoped was a sultry whisper, "not now. Dinner will burn."

"Dinner can burn. We can order pizza. I want you. Please." His hands were wandering up to her breasts…and that part was kind of nice. Then his hands were on her breasts and any person with nerve endings could not consider the way he squeezed them pleasurable.

"Finn, honey, no. Not now." She kissed his lips and then gently pushed him away. He looked disappointed but Quinn knew he wouldn't fight her on it.

Finn sat down at the kitchen table as Quinn stirred the pasta.

"Is there a reason you don't want to have sex with me?"

"Yes. Because I'm busy cooking."

"No, I mean, like, ever. We've only done it like four times since we got back from Hawaii. And we didn't even do it a lot there, and we waited until we got married to do it at all. I don't know, I guess I just thought you'd be excited to have sex with me once we could whenever we wanted."

Quinn was silent, wracking her brain for any excuse.

"I guess I'm just tired at the end of the day. It isn't you, I promise."

"So maybe we can have sex tonight?"

"Maybe."

* * *

><p>She gave in right after dinner, feeling guilty after their kitchen conversation. Three minutes of thrusting and groaning and pretending to enjoy herself and Quinn was able to make Finn happy. It wasn't that hard, really.<p>

She spent those three minutes thinking about Rachel's email. She still didn't understand how Rachel could have been so honest and vulnerable after years of torment and then silence. Maybe it had something to do with the distance the computer screen created. It was almost flattering that Rachel had trusted Quinn with her doubt and momentary lack of self-confidence.

As Finn came, Quinn thought about how nice it was to not have to remind him to think of the mailman. The added stress would just make it more unpleasant.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Thank you guys for waiting so long for this update. I'm in the middle of midterms and working on a couple other Glee related projects as well and I hope when the time comes you read those as well. We're getting closer to the Faberry in _this_ story, I promise! Also, this chapter should make it pretty apparent that anything I know about Braveheart I learned from Wikipedia and then embellished in my head. Hopefully you will someday manage to forgive me. As always I really appreciate any comments and critiques you have. Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>It became a habit. Every morning after saying goodbye to her husband and pouring a cup of coffee Quinn settled in front of her computer and without fail she would have one unread message in her inbox. She would read about Rachel's latest rehearsal frustration <em>"I cannot believe that the director cast a man who must be tone deaf to play Seymore. If his life depended on hitting three consecutive notes in the same key , he'd be six feet under", <em>her recent cooking ventures "_I'm trying to get Laura to enjoy at least one vegan dish—she seems to enjoy it as long as I don't tell her the cheese is soy", _and her cats. Quinn would send back a quick reply and update Rachel about her plans for the day, _"I've got a showing at 11 for a couple who desperately want to pretend they're living somewhere much hipper than Lima, then having lunch with Brittany and San before they buy a crib, and then after that I'm really, really going to finish those thank you notes."_

It was nice, actually. Quinn didn't want to admit that she liked knowing that if something exciting happened, there was someone who would be happy to hear about it and would gossip with her about her day. She liked being able to talk to someone about things that Finn said that annoyed her without worry that it would get back to him.

She didn't mention Rachel to Finn. It wasn't a secret really, but it felt nice to have a relationship with Rachel that didn't bring her back to high school. If Finn became a part of whatever bond she and Rachel we forming, it would put up a big, quarterback sized amount of tension between the two.

And it was just easier this way. She could talk to Rachel about whatever she felt like, but wasn't bound to tell her anything at all. It was comforting.

They started to email more often. Sometimes Rachel would send a quick message during her lunch break to tell her that she had just passed the theater where they had performed at Nationals, or Quinn would let her know that she had just seen Jacob ben-Israel's third wedding announcement in the local paper.

It hit her after sending an email at three in the afternoon complaining about Santana and Brittany's baby shower planning taking up their whole lunch date that it dawned on her: Rachel Berry was her friend.

Then she read over the details she had included about the disastrous date night she and Finn had the night before and scanned the paragraph she wrote about how she would rather talk to her mother on the phone for an hour than fumble around in bed with Finn and reread her plea for reassurance that she wasn't a bad wife for feeling this way.

Rachel Berry was not only now her friend—she was probably Quinn's best friend.

Quinn waited for shame to settle in the pit of her stomach or for embarrassment to color her cheeks, but those feelings never came. Instead a smile played on her lips and she looked forward to whatever joke Rachel would make about Quinn's worries. It was almost like having a diary—she could confide her fears and her anxieties, but she had the benefit of getting advice and support.

_So this is what having a girl friend is like_, Quinn thought. Maybe it wasn't so had after all.

* * *

><p>Quinn sat on the sofa with Finn's heavy arm around her shoulder as <em>Braveheart <em>blared in front of her for the umpteenth time when the phone rang. Desperate for an excuse to escape the Scottish bloodshed, Quinn extracted herself from Finn's grasp and picked up the phone in the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Quinn? Hi, it's Rachel!"

That voice took her straight back to the halls of McKinley and the itchy polyester of her Cheerios uniform. She froze and reminded herself how much she had grown since then—she and Rachel were friends now. The panic tingling behind her knees and weighing heavy like lead in her stomach was completely unwarranted.

"Hello?"

Quinn cleared her throat.

"Hey Rachel. How are you?"

"I'm doing very well, thank you! I hope I'm not interrupting your evening but I'm just calling to let you know that I'll be in Lima next weekend and I have a slightly awkward proposal for you. My fathers are celebrating their thirtieth anniversary on Saturday and I said I would come home to share that event with them. Laura and I were going to fly out together for the party, but she has a big assignment that weekend that she has to complete and she can't come. I'd rather not go to my fathers' party alone and you're really the only person in Lima I still communicate with, aside from Kurt who will be ironically out of state this weekend, and I'd like to invite you to join me."

"You want me to come to your dads' anniversary party with you?"

"If you don't feel comfortable I understand completely, however I want you to know that I've already discussed this idea with my fathers and they would love to have you."

"Um…let me check my calendar."

"Okay."

Quinn covered the receiver with her hand and carried the phone into the next room.

"Finn, are we doing anything next Saturday?"

"Huh?" He looked up from the movie. "Next Saturday? Nah, I don't think so."

"Because Rachel's on the phone and she wants to know if I want to go to her dads' anniversary party."

"Oh! Well, what did you say?"

"I didn't make a decision yet—I wanted to ask your opinion. Should I go?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Do you want to?"

Quinn thought it over. She could either go to the party with Rachel and risk feeling awkward in front of people she'd never met and would probably never see again, or she could pretend to have other plans and then stay home to avoid getting caught in her lie—which really worked against the whole trying to develop a friendship with a former enemy thing.

"Hey Rachel, are you still there?"

"Yes, hi."

"I would love to come to the party. It sounds like fun."

"Really? Thank you, Quinn. You don't know it but you're really doing me a favor. Otherwise I would be the only person there under fifty, and one of three or four women. I really appreciate it."

"Sure, Rachel. It's not a problem."

"I'll email you the rest of the details later tonight. Thanks again. I've got to go, but if you have any questions give me a call."

"Sure thing. Have a great night."

"You too! Bye!"

"Bye."

Quinn made her way back to the living room and settled down next to Finn just in time to hear the axe fall on Wallace's neck. Her least favorite part of one of her least favorite movies. Perfect. This is what she got for buying him the director's cut

"Oh man, that's so gross. Hey, did you know if you rewind this scene you can watch his head go back on and the blood goes back in? It's like, 100 times more disgusting."

"That's really awful. Let's not do that this time."

"Yeah, okay. Man, that was such a great movie. It just gets better every time we watch it, don't you think?"

"Sure," she fibbed. It didn't hurt anyone to pretend that she got as much out of Scots slaying each other as her husband did.

Finn turned off the t.v as the credits started to roll.

"What did you tell Rach about that party? Are you going to go?"

Quinn twisted her wedding band around her finger, a nervous habit she had picked up since she had gotten engaged.

"I said I'd go. I couldn't really think of a good reason not to go. She's sort of my friend now and she needed someone to help her out. It might be fun."

"Yeah! It'll totally be fun. Those guys are the best. One time when Rachel and I were dating I was watching football at her house with one of her dads and her other dad came in and asked who was playing and the first dad was like 'um…I think the blue team, but the guy from the black and white stripe team keeps interrupting.' It was so funny! Plus, they make really good quiche. I can't wait! What should I wear?"

"Honey," she said slowly, "Rachel only has one extra invitation and I'm going in her girlfriend's place. I don't think you can come."

"Oh. Bummer. Well, if they have goody bags will you bring me one?"

"Of course." She kissed him lightly.

"Hey, it's kind of funny that you're going in her girlfriend's place. That kind of makes _you_ her girlfriend. You're Mrs. Quinn Berry!" He laughed at his own joke as Quinn's cheeks flamed.

"No way," she refused, trying to play along. "If anything, she'd be Mrs. Rachel Fabray. It sounds better."

"Well it doesn't matter, does it Mrs. Hudson?"

"No," she shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't."

She had figured she'd be used to her new name by now, but _Mrs. Hudson_ still didn't feel like her.

"Hey, are you okay?" His hand brushed back her hair. "I was just kidding, you know. Did I make you mad? I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I'm just tired."

"We can go to bed now if you want." Finn stood and headed for the bathroom.

She hated seeing that look of concern in his eyes. When she just felt so far way and so wrong and couldn't pull herself back she knew he felt it, but what could she do?

Check her email. That's what.

_To: QuinnFHuds_

_From: RachBerry_

_Hi Quinn! It was great to talk to you tonight. Here is the information for Saturday. The party starts at 6:00pm and is supposed to end at 10 or 11 (but knowing my dads it will go until 3 am!). I can pick you up and drive you home if you'd like. They're requesting business casual for the event and there's no need to bring anything. Please let me know if you have any allergies or food restrictions so we can adapt the menu._

_I'm rambling. I'm sure whatever you wear will be fine and that we'll have food for you to eat. Thank you so much for agreeing to come! I'll see you Saturday._

_Xoxo Rachel_

She sent back a quick reply.

_To: RachBerry_

_From: QuinnFHuds_

_That all sounds great. I'll see you then!_

_-Quinn_


	7. Chapter 7

[A/N] Once again, thanks for your patience. I'm on vacation now for the next month so I'll work on getting enough chapters together to keep posting regularly. I'm not sure I like how this story is flowing (and it will definitely undergo heavy editing when finished regardless), but you be the judge. Please let me know what you think!

P.S: I'm also currently looking for a beta reader for this projects, as well as a big bang story and a couple shorter projects. Please send me a message if you're interested.

* * *

><p>Quinn spent Saturday afternoon with her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder discussing her wardrobe options for the party.<p>

"Is it indoor or outdoor?"

"I don't know. Both? I'm not sure."

"What did Rachel say about the dress code?"

"She said something about business casual? Can you dress business casual for a party? Isn't that only for work?"

"Absolutely not. For God's sake, you're starting to sound like your husband."

"Okay, then what do I wear?"

"Find a dress and a cardigan-no pastels and just above the knee-and closed toe shoes."

"How about a white dress, blue sweater, and brown pumps?"

"Flip it. Wear your blue dress, the cerulean or cobalt blue-not the cornflower blue, cream sweater-not white, and brown pumps but only if your accessories pick up the brown."

Quinn pulled the proposed outfit out of the closet. She was so glad Kurt had a photographic memory when it came to the inside of her closet. He was absolutely right about the clothes, as usual, and looking put together and stylish helped to quell some of the anxiety weighing on her chest. Maybe she was worried about making a good impression on the Misters Berry. She vaguely remembered Rachel's dads from high school—they were the first to erupt on applause during a performance and always were the first to lead a standing ovation. She had a couple fuzzy memories of their house from the twenty minutes she spent at Rachel's Evita themed graduation party-she could still remember Rachel clutching the rail of the balcony singing "Don't Cry for Me Lima Ohio right before sneaking out to get to another party.

She recalled them being nice men, but she was still more anxious than she expected. She had half a mind to call Rachel and cancel, telling her that she had a stomach bug or something and maybe send Finn in her place. She couldn't remember why she had agreed to go in the first place. Wasn't this all a little fast?

She aired her concerns to Kurt, whose skeptical eyebrow raise she could hear through the phone.

"Quinn, I'm telling you this out of love, but if you wimp out at the last minute and miss this party you will not only look tacky and inconsiderate, but you'll also look like you're threatened by Rachel Berry, who, if I've been following your cyber social life correctly, is quickly becoming your closest female friend."

"So I can't make Finn go for me?"

"No."

"And you can't come home and go in my place?"

"Listen to yourself! You are _afraid_ to go to Rachel's house for a party. Who are you? The Quinn I know isn't this intimidated by social situations. You said so yourself earlier today—you like her now! You think she's funny and supportive and you like talking to her. What are you so worried about?"

"I don't know."

"Oh yeah, I believe that like I believe that Shuester had realistic Broadway dreams. Why are you worried?"

"Kurt!" She groans. "Just drop it. I'll go, I'll go!"

"Of course you will, but why are you so resistant?"

"What if I screw it up?"

"Screw what up?"

"This friendship that she and I are building. I mean, what if I say something stupid or she's annoying, or I get angry and then I can't really say I've grown at all and I'll be stuck being the third wheel to Brittany and Santana and their baby if I want to get away from my husband and have some girl time. I don't want to go back to being that insecure girl I was in high school."

"Slow down, crazy. Are you just playing nice with Rachel because you have something to prove to yourself?"

"I don't know." She flopped down onto the bed and sighed. "It started that way but I want to be her friend. She's actually pretty okay."

"Don't go overboard with the compliments there, Q," her joked. "But for what it's worth, she likes you. She told me the other day on the phone how much she likes talking to you. She thinks you're funny. By the way, you're not the only one who doesn't have a whole lot of girlfriends; Rach's social circle is pretty small. This budding friendship means a lot to her, too."

"But what if it's different offline? What if I don't know what to say or how to act?"

"Just be yourself, Quinn."

"Oh thanks, Oprah."

"No, I'm serious. It's just one night and you're supposed to have fun. Worst-case scenario you get a delicious free meal."

"You're right. I know you're right."

"That makes two of us. Knock 'em dead, tiger."

She hung up the phone and slipped it into her clutch. She felt more secure knowing that if something went wrong, Kurt was only a phone call away.

* * *

><p>"Wow," Finn breathed. "You look great!"<p>

"It's not too much?" She asked, turning in front of the mirror.

"No. You look beautiful. Are you excited to see Rachel? This will be like the first time ever you guys have hung out together without someone else from the glee club."

"Yeah. I mean, it's not big deal. We're friends now. Friends hang out."

"You just have to promise me you'll come home, babe. You look so hot that I couldn't blame someone else there for asking you out, but," he wrapped his arms around her waist, "I need you in my bed tonight."

She grinned and kissed him.

"High praise from an impartial judge," she replied. The compliment put her at ease and she promised herself she would try to summon up the desire later.

The sound of the buzzer echoed through the apartment and Quinn felt her palms start to sweat. She drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. _It's supposed to be fun_, she reminded herself as she pressed the button of the intercom.

"Come on up!"

"Thank you!" Rachel's voice trilled on the other end. Within a minute there was a knock on the door and Quinn turned the knob to reveal Rachel Berry, in all her glory, dressed in a knee length dress the color of ripe cranberries with her brown hair hanging in loose curls down her shoulders pulled back with a headband. She looked great; there was no denying it. She flew right to Quinn and gave her a hug.

"Quinn! You look fabulous! It's so great to see you again!"

Quinn hugged her back. It struck her then that they had never so much as shaken hands before but here they were hugging like old friends, which she guessed they sort of were.

"Hey Rachel," Finn said from behind her.

"Finn!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "How's the shop?"

"Good. Cars always break and as long as cars break I'll have a job."

"Glad to hear it."

"How's Laura?" Finn asked as Quinn collected her purse and her sweater.

"Oh she's…fine. She's on an assignment so she's been out of town."

"Oh…sorry to hear that," he replied. "But she'll be back soon?"

"Absolutely! Of course!" Rachel said, but Quinn was sure she heard a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Rachel hadn't said anything about her relationship being rocky lately, but then again she never really did say much about her relationship.

"Well, should we get going?" Quinn interjected. Rachel nodded vigorously.

"Bye Rachel," Finn waved. "Stop by anytime while you're here."

"Thank you, Finn! I appreciate it. We should get together while I'm in town."

"Sounds great, Rach. Have fun, guys." He kissed Quinn on the cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too," she replied before opening the door for Rachel and together they walked down the stairs in silence.

"It's kind of weird to see each other in person, isn't it?" Rachel asked as she settled behind the driver's wheel.

"I'm so glad you feel it too!"

"Definitely. I've been kind of nervous all day, worrying that I'll say the wrong thing or talk too much or that we won't get along outside of email…"

"I've been worrying about the same thing," she replied, "and when I told Kurt he totally freaked out at me and told me I was being stupid for being nervous. But I've been worrying about meeting your dads. I'm sure that the way I treated you in high school hasn't inspired a whole lot of esteem in me."

Quinn tried to stop herself but being around Rachel made the truth spill out. Maybe it had to do with being next to someone who wore her feelings on her sleeve but she found herself spilling her anxieties about the evening without a second thought.

"High school was a long time ago, Quinn. We're adults now and if you haven't noticed I'm mostly recovered from those four years by now. My dads are looking forward to meeting you. You don't need to worry."

Hearing it from Rachel made the knots in her stomach truly unclench for the first time that day.

"I'm looking forward to meeting them, too," Quinn replied.

"I have to warn you, this party isn't going to be attended by hippest or youngest crowd. I love my dads' friends, but there is obviously quite an age gap. If at any time you feel overwhelmed by musical theater references from fifty or sixty years ago let me know and we can leave."'

"I'm looking forward it, really. Both Finn and Kurt have told me how legendary your dads' parties are and I'm not about to miss one. I might not be lucky enough to get on the guest list again."

Rachel threw back her head and laughed the same laugh Quinn remembered echoing off the walls in the choir room.

"You watch it Quinn Fabray, or you'll be stricken from this guest list!" She playfully shoved Quinn's shoulder and Quinn laughed along with her.

It was a short drive to Rachel's home. She knew immediately which driveway they would pull into; only one house on the block had a balloon arch spanning the width of the driveway.

"Home sweet home!" Rachel announced as she withdrew the key from the ignition. Quinn followed her up the driveway

* * *

><p>Her fear of the Misters Berry evaporated as they greeted her at the door. Rachel provided a quick introduction before greeting her grandparents as Quinn stood in the doorway awkwardly.<p>

"Quinn, it's great to see you again. Rachel has been so looking forward to bringing you tonight. I really think it has helped to lift her spirits. I know she's been so shaken up about things with Laura but I think a night with an old friend is just what the doctor ordered."

Quinn smiled back and thanked him, but this was the second time that evening that she felt she was missing a piece of the puzzle as far as Laura was concerned. She knew that Laura was out of town on business, but she couldn't imagine that Rachel would be so distressed by a brief separation from her girlfriend that she would need extra support. And if she was so upset, why hadn't she mentioned it before?

An hour later she had been introduced to Hiram and Leroy Berry, Stephen and Steven, Tom and Jerry, Hiram's mother, Leroy's father mother, Jim and James and their dogs Judy and Liza, as well as a revolving door of neighbors who's names slipped out of Quinn's mind quicker than a drink had been slipped into her hand.

Rachel was a natural hostess, twirling in and out of the kitchen with glasses and appetizers while introducing Quinn to everyone in the room. Quinn was impressed. Rachel effortlessly made all the guests feel attended to and welcome without trying. She was a natural and Quinn couldn't help but consider how much her mother would love for her to adopt some of Rachel's skill.

She watched Rachel all through the party, eyeing her for signs of distress, for a hint of what Hiram had mentioned at the door, but she had no idea how to gauge Rachel—they hadn't seen each other in years and this get together was really just a favor. Quinn didn't regret coming along, but she didn't feel close enough to Rachel to just _ask_ her what was going on. Not after spending only two hours together for the first time in almost a decade.

* * *

><p>"So Rachel, where's the shutterbug girlfriend we've heard so much about? She couldn't make it out here tonight?" Her uncle asked as he took a swig of his drink.<p>

"No," Rachel replied, "she had an—an opportunity she couldn't pass up. It wouldn't have been right for me to tear her away from her work this weekend. But…I know she would have loved to be here this weekend."

Her tone was upbeat, but not even that could conceal the tears Quinn noticed welling in her eyes and the tightness in her voice.

"If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm just going to check on dessert." Quinn watched as she bolted out of her seat and disappeared into the kitchen.

Her mother's etiquette rulebook never mentioned what to do when you are the guest of your former enemy turned friend who you haven't seen in years and is also your hostess rushes away from the table to hide in the kitchen after her partner is mentioned.

The guests looked to her expectantly.

"I have to go check on dessert, too," she announced. She awkwardly maneuvered around the other chairs at the table and reached the kitchen only to find it empty.


	8. Chapter 8

Her mother's etiquette rulebook never mentioned what to do when you are the guest of your former enemy turned friend who you haven't seen in years and is also your hostess rushes away from the table to hide in the kitchen after her partner is mentioned.

The guests looked to her expectantly.

"I have to go check on dessert, too," she announced. She awkwardly maneuvered around the other chairs at the table and reached the kitchen only to find it empty.

She assumed Rachel's bedroom was upstairs and followed the staircase up, regretting each step she took. This was an invasion of privacy, inappropriate, unnecessary, much too intimate, but her legs carried her forward anyway.

Rachel's room was easy to identify. The door was plastered with Playbills and ticket stubs around a large gold star. Quinn could imagine high school Rachel painstakingly choosing which programs to put up and agonizing over the color of the star. It was somehow endearing to imagine her at that age, even though then things had been so ugly between them.

She knocked lightly. "Rachel, it's Quinn. Do you—do you need anything?"

"No, but thank you for checking Quinn. I'm fine. I must have just had an allergic reaction to someone's perfume. I'll be a few more minutes but please tell my dads they don't have to wait for me."

Her voice sounded thick and wavered. Quinn assumed she left the table crying but faced with the reality she felt unsteady.

She tapped on the door again, "Rachel, do you…want to talk?"

"You don't have to. I don't want to drag you away from the party. I'll be fine."

"I know I don't have to, but I want to." Maybe she was only curious or maybe she just hated the idea of someone crying alone in her room during her own party—like she had as a child. "Can I come in?"

"Okay."

It felt awkward to sit so gingerly on Rachel's bed with her arm lightly around her shoulders as Rachel quietly cried. She never lent herself to this sort of deeply personal situation, and rarely anyone ever asked her.

"I'm sorry about this, Quinn. I'm sure you didn't agree to come think I'd be such a mess."

"Rachel, don't worry about that. But can I ask why you're so upset? You seemed fine earlier."

"Laura left me," she announced. "She was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity to document the African AIDS epidemic—she's a photojournalist, I don't know if I told you—and she said that if she chose to go to Africa it didn't make sense for us to stay together since obviously my work is here and I'm not prepared to resettle and she decided our relationship wasn't 'serious' enough for the two of us to struggle with that kind of distance. She didn't even give me a choice."

Rachel's sobs came in earnest now, but Quinn watched as she tried to muffle them while biting her fist.

"Oh Rach…."

"And Papa's toast about love and marriage and then Uncle Jack's questions about her…it was just too much. I fully intended to just try to forget about it tonight, but—"

"Rachel, I'm so sorry."

"I wanted to tell you what happened when I invited you to the party, but I didn't want you to feel like you had to come out of pity or obligation. And I thought maybe she would change her mind. But she came by for the last of her stuff the other day and she's probably on a flight to Ethiopia as we speak and she'll be traveling all over the continent for the foreseeable future and…I just feel so lost, Quinn. I've never been this hurt or broken because of a break up and I don't know where to go from here."

Quinn didn't say anything. She placed a hand on Rachel's back and debated pulling her into a hug, or keeping her distance. She held one of Rachel's hands in hers and watched the tears fall from Rachel's dark lashes.

"You're so lucky, Quinn. You have a devoted husband-someone who will never hurt you like this. You're so, so lucky."

She cracked at that moment and wrapped her arms around Rachel, who settled into the crook of Quinn's neck and wept. For hours she sat on Rachel's bed, holding her shaking friend and whispering reassurances and promises of a brighter tomorrow. When Rachel's sobs finally quieted she gave Quinn a watery smile.

"You didn't have to stay, Quinn. I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"We're friends," she replied simply. "It wouldn't be right for me to be anywhere else."


	9. Chapter 9

"We should go back downstairs," Rachel said, pulling herself away. Quinn's neck was cold and wet where Rachel's head had been resting, and she wished Rachel would put her head back, if only to keep the spot warm. "I haven't made such a dramatic exit since my graduation party when Dad played the Revival recording of Company instead of the Original Broadway Cast recording."

"Rachel, they'll understand," Quinn soothed. "They're your family and they love you. You don't need to martyr yourself for the sake of the party."

"I'm just so embarrassed. I've been telling everyone what a great relationship this is…was…and how happy I was and how things were going so well. I really thought she was the love of my life, Quinn. I really thought this was going to be forever. I don't want to start looking all over again. I just want to be as happy as you are. You have everything I want."

"Please Rachel, don't wish for that," Quinn whispered.

"But you have it so put together, so perfect-"

"You know, sometimes things just don't work out the way we expect them to. I never imagined that at 26 I'd have a 10 year old daughter living halfway across the country who has no idea who I am. I never thought that I would be married to my high school sweetheart and dread going to bed with him every night. Our dreams don't always manifest in the way we hope and I guess that disappointment is part of what shapes the way we find our future happiness."

"Aren't you happy now?" Rachel's voice quivered, as if she was afraid that her picture of the perfect future was about to crack.

"I don't know," she said for the first time out loud. "I really don't know. I just know that this friendship is, right now, the most fulfilling relationship in my life and that fact alone is terrifying."

They sat in the heavy silence that followed Quinn's admission for what felt like hours.

"Let's watch a movie," Rachel proposed, rising to her feet and smoothing out the wrinkles on the back of her dress. "When I'm sad I usually watch Funny Girl, but we can watch something else if you'd prefer. I'm afraid my selection is rather limited to movie musicals and teen comedies. My dads' haven't really had the heart to clean out my room since I moved away."

"Funny Girl's fine with me. I've never seen it."

"Are you serious?" Rachel exclaimed. The light was coming back in her eyes. "It's my favorite Streisand film, obviously. It's the story of an aspiring performer who can't find work in 1920s New York because she isn't conventionally attractive but her amazing voice and knack for comedic timing—along with a fiery spirit eventually lands her fame, fortune, and the man of her dreams. He lures her away from her work and they live in the lap of luxury until…well, I don't want to spoil all of it for you! I think you might recognize some of the numbers…"

"I'm sure you sang every one of them in high school. I would be shocked if I didn't know the lyrics by heart."

It might have been her imagination, but Quinn was almost certain she saw Rachel blush.

Rachel opened her laptop and slid in the disc and the film flickered to life as Quinn flicked the light switch. They sat together at the head of Rachel's bed against the mountain of pillows behind them. It struck Quinn that this is what life would have been like if they had been friends in high school—sitting in Rachel's room on a Saturday night watching movies and talking. It wouldn't have been half bad.

"She's a lot like you, you know," Quinn mentioned as Barbra's final note gave way to the Intermission screen. "Just so fiercely going after what she wants no matter what stands in her way. I always envied that about you. It made my life hell in high school but I was always so jealous of your tenacity—even when you were using it to steal my boyfriend."

She didn't expect that laugh that fell from Rachel's lips. "Really? Not that it's my first time being compared to Fanny Brice, but that comparison coming from you is unexpected to say the least."

Quinn shrugged as the movie roared back to life. But then Barbra started to sing about wanting to marry Nick Arnstein and how happy she is to be married and what a joy it is to finally be "Sadie Sadie married lady". She knew it was coming…when the tightness in her throat started to burn and her eyes began to sting she knew.

Quinn hated to cry. She was an ugly crier with skin that got blotchy and eyes that were quick to redden. She didn't weep gracefully or silently but raggedly with the force of the emotions she pent up day to day. She didn't want to cry in front of Rachel who had legitimate reason to hurt. As far as Rachel could see Quinn's life was ideal and Quinn didn't want to rob her of that illusion.

But when she felt the pressure of tears against her shut eyelids she could no longer hold it back.

"I'm not happy," she announced to the darkness. "I am not happy at all."

The dam broke. Quinn's tears fell like rain—a monsoon after a summer of drought.

"I hate being married. I hate it. I hate that I hate being married. I hate that I can't make myself love being a wife and I hate that I can't make myself love Finn and I hate how there's no way out. There's nothing I can do. I wanted to get out of Ohio and try something new and meet new people and be something more than _this!_" Quinn's body shakes with her sobs and this time it's Rachel who gathers Quinn into her arms. "I feel like an asshole because I know that this is the life you want—being married and everything—but I'm here, _married_, and it's terrible."

"It's not being married that makes you so unhappy, Quinn," Rachel murmurs. "It's to whom you're married. Do you love Finn?"

She cried harder when she realized the answer. "But it isn't his fault!" She cries. "He didn't do anything but love me and why can't I just return the favor?"

"You know it doesn't work like that, Quinn. Love isn't a favor you grant someone for playing the game the right way. Either you love someone or you don't and you can't help it."

It wasn't the first time the issue had weighed on Quinn's mind, but it was the first time she had allowed herself to voice them out loud. She couldn't bring her sadness into Brittany and Santana's home while they blissfully prepared for the birth of their child. She couldn't tell Kurt, who had loyalties to Quinn, but to Finn as a brother. She couldn't talk to her mother, who would never accept that Quinn's high school sweetheart could be anything but perfect.

"I don't want to be married, Rachel. Not to Finn. He's a great guy but it's just…I'm not in love with him and I've tried and tried and tried and I'm just…not."

"I know. I suspected something might be not quite right when you started sending me emails about how horrible he was in bed and doing whatever you could to avoid sleeping with him. When you talk about him you never sound…you never sound like you're radiating with happiness."

"I settled. I know I settled."

"Why did you settle?"

"Because it was easier than going into the world and finding something different. I've been with Finn for almost 10 years and I thought I would be happy with good enough."

"Quinn," Rachel said gently, laying her hand over Quinn's, "you deserve _so much more _than good enough." Her eyes met Quinn's and her small, soft hand cupped her cheek. "So, so much more."

Goosebumps covered Quinn's back as she leaned into Rachel's touch, eyes closed, drinking in the sensation of Rachel's fingers on her skin. She felt herself lean forward, drawn to the gentle affection. She lifted her chin, almost grazing Rachel's lips before the brunette politely pulled away.

"You're very vulnerable right now, Quinn. I don't want to take advantage of that fact by kissing you now, but believe me…I want to."

"I…" Quinn stammered, "I should probably go."

"No," Rachel argued. "You should probably stay. You're crying and hurting and confused. I think we should forget about what just happened, watch another movie, give each other pedicures or something, and have a girly slumber party."

"I don't know, Rachel. I think I should leave…I don't want to impose upon you any more than I have already. You're hurting and then I made your pain all about me…"

"Quinn, that's how people bond. They share their pain. And you know what? It would be more hurtful if you left because then I would just be in here dwelling on things with Laura by myself. You're a perfect distraction. So now you have to stay." A grin spread across her face and Quinn couldn't refuse.

"Okay, I'll stay. But we need to watch a different movie."

"Deal."

They decided on Mean Girls instead.

"I'm sorry I was such a Regina George to you in high school, Rach," Quinn admitted, but Rachel was already sound asleep on her shoulder.

* * *

><p>[AN] I just wanted to thank you guys for your patience. I really hit a wall with this story and I am so insanely busy with other projects, as well as life, that I haven't been very attentive to this story. To be honest, I've been losing steam for Falling is Like This because it feels ooc to me and I'm not huge on writing fluff but I want to see this version of Faberry through to where I planned. I truly, truly appreciate your patience and am so appreciative that you read my work at all. I hope you enjoy where this story is going and that you have the chance to check out the other story I'm working on "In My Secret Life".

Again, thank you guys so much for your patience and your continued interest in this piece-your enthusiasm is really what motivates me to move this story along. :)


	10. Chapter 10

"Where were you?" Finn demanded when Quinn arrived home the next morning in her wrinkled dress from the night before.

"Where do you think I was, Finn? I ran off with a middle aged gay man and we had sex all night."

"That's not funny, Quinn, and you know it. Where were you?"

"I stayed over at Rachel's. Her girlfriend left her and she needed the company. You're right, I should have let you know I wouldn't be home but I fell asleep. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked as he followed Quinn into their bedroom. She peeled off her dress and put her pumps back in the closet.

"I told you! It slipped my mind. I fell asleep!"

"I don't get it, Quinn. I'm your husband and you don't even think about me enough to send me a text that you aren't coming home? Are you even happy to see me?"

She thought about telling the truth at that moment. She could have told Finn that no, she wasn't happy to see him, and that her almost kiss with Rachel the night before, while confusing and scary, aroused her more than Finn had in months. She might have said that being married didn't make her happy, that being a real estate agent was probably the worst career she could imagine, and that when she saw herself in the mirror all she saw was a 'Lima Loser'.

"Of course I am, Finn," she said gently. Confessing the truth was too hard. Life was good in this moment. Sure, it was unfulfilling, but it was stable. She had someone who loved her to come home to every night. When she was afraid or sick or unsure she always had someone in her corner. Wasn't that better than being alone? "I'm sorry, I really just lost track of time last night." She didn't mention that she lost track of time while she told her husband's ex girlfriend that she didn't love him anymore.

"I mean…I was teasing yesterday when I said you had to promise to come home. I was worried sick, Quinn. I thought you might have been in an accident or something. Have you even looked at your phone? I called you, like, fifteen times."

She hadn't. In fact, she hadn't brought her phone at all. It was sitting on the nightstand next to her side of the bed.

"I already apologized, Finn. What more do you want from me?" She demanded, her voice rising, her tone became sharper, angrier.

"I want you to treat me like someone you give a shit about! Who you actually want in your life! And if you don't could you just do me the favor of telling me that so I can get out of your hair?"

Quinn stood shell shocked for a moment before turning on her heel to lock herself in the bathroom.

For fifteen minutes she sat on the edge of the bathtub taking deep, calming breaths to steady her shaking fingers. Her thoughts raced and her heart pounded, but her eyes remained dry.

She wanted to call Rachel and tell her that she was sure that Finn and figured out that she was done. But knowing that her first impulse was to call Rachel made her feel sick. Something was happening there, something she didn't understand and didn't know how to face and it was important to Quinn to put off any sort of consideration of the matter indefinitely.

Finn tapped his knuckles lightly against the door.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Can I come in?"

"I guess," she said in response. She unlocked the door and Finn entered, looking too big and solid leaning against the delicate porcelain fixtures.

"I'm sorry I blew up, babe. I was just so angry that you were totally okay with forgetting about me. Sometimes I get scared around you and I don't know how to handle it."

"What are you scared of?"

"I don't know. I just don't feel like…like when I'm with you I don't feel like you think I'm special and it's only a matter of time before someone else takes you away from me." Quinn could hear his voice wavering and she was completely unprepared to see him cry. "I mean, you won't even let me make love to you most of the time. I don't know what to do, Q. Things just aren't right. It shouldn't be like this. I was talking to my mom and she thinks we should go to counseling."

"What? No, Finn. That's ridiculous. We don't need counseling."

"Then what do we need to be better?"

That was her lead in, her cue, her moment. She could have said _we need to break up to be better_, but this isn't high school. You don't break up with your husband. You _divorce_ your husband and for the rest of your life you're a divorcee, used up, a quitter. A failure.

"I guess I just need to be a better wife…" she mumbled. It killed her to hear the words fall from her own lips, but leaving? That wasn't an option.

"I want us to start a family, Quinn, but I don't know how we can do that if you won't even sleep with me—"

"Wait," she interrupted. "Is this all about sex? Is that what all of this is about?"

"Well, no," he blushed, "but it's a big part of it. How can I believe that you love me if you won't…you know…"

"That's the most disgusting, offensive, stupidest thing I've ever heard, Finn Hudson, and I demand you take it back right now. How can you believe that I love you if I don't suck you off? Is that what you're getting at here? There are so many choices I've made and opportunities I've sacrificed for YOU. I stayed in Ohio and turned down other schools because you didn't want to do a long distance relationship. I didn't fight you when you wanted to buy a house in Lima so you could work in Burt's shop, even though the truth is that I hate this godforsaken town. Did you ever consider how many ghosts are here for me, Finn? That the hospital down the street is where I gave birth to my daughter who isn't allowed to contact me? How my only friends here are the people who stabbed me in the back in high school? How I have to drive past my childhood home that I was kicked out of every day on the way to work? How your best friend is the father of my only child and that seeing him and hearing about the great relationship he has with Beth kills me? Do you know how much I gave up for you? I wanted so much more than this life, Finn, but I gave up my dreams so you could have yours. And now you have the audacity to tell me that I don't love you because I won't _fuck you?_ That's just—"

"Would you _stop it _with the pity party!" He shouts, smashing the china soap dispenser onto the marble counter. It shatters into a thousand pieces. "If I've held you back and ruined your life then why the hell did you marry me? Did you just want a party? Did you just want to spend a crapload of our parents' money? Did you just want a new dress? Why are you here?"

Quinn rose silently to leave the bathroom. She needed to get out of this house. She needed to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Rachel.

She grabbed her cell phone and walked out of the apartment to her car, locked herself inside, and punched in Rachel's number.

"Quinn, hi!" Rachel trilled.

"Are you still in Lima?" She could feel the lump in her throat rising again. She couldn't cry two days in a row—especially not in front of the same person.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm almost at the airport getting ready to fly back to New York. Thank you again for last night—you really helped me a lot."

"I'm glad, Rach. I just…I have a problem and I don't know who else to go to but if you're busy and you need to get on a plane we can wait to talk later. I can just email you."

"My flight doesn't leave for two hours, Quinn. What's going on?"

Quinn filled her in on the fight, the missed calls, the broken soap dispenser and the sticky pool of soap that she was sure she'd have to wipe up later. "He asked me why I'm even here. I didn't have an answer. I don't know what I'm going to say when I go back inside. He said he talked to his mom and she thinks we should go into therapy which is the LAST thing I want to do. But I can't leave! If I leave him, I failed."

"You didn't fail. Do you want to stay married to Finn, Quinn? You can be honest—I won't say anything."

"No," Quinn stammered. "No. I want a divorce."


	11. Chapter 11

Rachel offered to take a later flight and drive back to Lima to help Quinn plan, but Quinn insisted that she should get back to New York. It would be pointless for Rachel to stick around if Quinn didn't plan on actually telling Finn that she wanted to leave. Instead she sent Finn a text saying that she wouldn't be home that night and drove to Brittany and Santana's place on the other side of town.

"It's been a while," Santana said as she opened the door. "To be honest I was surprised my phone still recognized your number. It's like you got hitched and dropped off the face of the earth."

"Yeah, I guess I've just been busy," Quinn answered. She left her shoes by the door and Santana led her into the kitchen.

"Jesus, Q, you haven't looked this bad since you got knocked up. What's going on? I mean, you grace us with your presence and you don't even get into your Stepford suit for the occasion?"

"San, be nice," Brittany chastised from the stove. She poured water into the three mugs in front of her before carrying them to the table. She set a steaming mug in front of Quinn, who savored the warm, comforting smell of the steeping spices. "We haven't seen Quinn in a long time. If you're mean she might never come back."

Santana rolled her eyes, but conceded and gave Quinn a half-hearted compliment about her hair color looking almost natural.

"I need to talk to you guys about something important," Quinn announced after draining half her tea.

"Isn't that why you got married? So we didn't have to be the bullshit police anymore? I thought this was Finn's job…"

"It's about Finn…" She continued, ignoring Quinn's interjection.

"Ignore her, Quinn. What's going on?" Brittany asked gently. The sweetness in her voice made Quinn's stomach clench.

"It's kind of a long story. I don't even know why I'm here telling you guys this. It's really not anyone else's concern and I should be able to take care of it myself. But for some reason I want to talk to someone about it and I can't go to my mom and Rachel's on a plane back to New York—"

"Hold up. Rachel Berry?" Santana demanded. "You mean the demented Lollipop Guild reject who for some reason was sucking face with a woman at your wedding? Where the hell did she come from? Why do you care if she's on a plane back to or from anywhere?"

"Don't, Santana. She's changed a lot. I guess she and Finn started talking again—"

"I'm sure they did," San added. Brittany swatted away Santana's crude gesture.

"They started talking again on Facebook and he invited her to the wedding. Then he and Kurt both pressured me into emailing her and…we're kind of friends now. She…she's the person I'm closest to right now…"

She doesn't think she imagined the blush rising to Santana's cheeks or the look of hurt that flashes across Brittany's face.

"I mean, I love you guys so much and you're great, but you've been really busy planning for the baby and everything. And you have each other. I didn't want to come in and make everything about me-"

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?" Santana accused.

"I can leave if you want me to," Quinn declared, rising from the table.

"Guys, just calm down. Don't fight. San, Quinn is obviously upset—let's hear her out. And Quinn, Santana is just hurt…we've really missed you these last few months before and after the wedding. You just kind of disappeared."

"I'm sorry." And she meant it. But all the emotional backtracking was making it hard to get to the real issue. "Things haven't been so great. I went to Rachel's dads' anniversary party and they made this big toast congratulating me and Finn on our marriage and Rachel freaked out because her girlfriend just left her—"

"She's gay?" Brittany and Santana asked in unison.

"Yeah. She had this girlfriend who just dumped her for a job assignment in Africa. She's pretty devastated. We were talking about it last night and she was talking about how in her ideal world she would be married and how I am so fucking lucky to be married and—and I lost it. I started bawling because I'm _not_ happy and I didn't realize it until then. I'm so _unhappy_ that it's pathetic. Then I told her that I knew I settled and we almost kissed but didn't and I slept over and when I came back home this morning Finn flipped out and I just…I want a divorce."

"Wait wait wait. Slow the fuck down. Berry tried to kiss you? Since when is she a homo?"

"No…" Quinn twisted her ring. "I mean, her hand was on my face but I—I leaned forward. It doesn't matter…I was sad and confused and crying and she said she wouldn't kiss me because I was vulnerable."

"But you wanted her to?" Brittany asked. Her blue eyes were as wide as the saucers under their cups.

"It doesn't matter."

"Quinn, are you gay?" Santana asked.

"What? No!" She exclaimed. "Listen, I'm trying to tell you that I want to divorce Finn. I want to leave my husband and all you guys can focus on is that I almost kissed a girl?"

"Quinn, listen to yourself. You almost kissed Rachel Berry and now you want to leave your husband? Can you blame us for thinking the events might be connected…at least a little bit?"

Quinn considered Brittany's argument for a moment. "No. I don't. I can't even start to process that yet. I think that right now I need to focus on telling my husband that I don't want to be married anymore."

"How do you think Meatloaf is going to take it?" Santana asked. Her words might be sharp, but her tone was careful, treading gently.

"I don't know. If our argument this morning is any indication he won't be too shocked. He might even be glad. He asked me why I'm still in this marriage with him…I couldn't give him an answer."

"Are you going to do it tonight?"

Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. I don't want to do it at all. Honestly it would be so much easier if he would just do it."

"So you'd be willing to just wait around until the Human Jockstrap broke up with you instead of just doing yourself the favor of making a hard decision that will make you happy?"

"I guess."

"Then you aren't the Quinn Fabray I looked up to in high school."

"Oh bullshit, Santana. You never looked up to me."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," she shrugs. "I'm just saying that you were always the strong one. You always made your own choices…even when they were hard. You did it before and you can do it again."

* * *

><p>She doesn't do it that night. She went home after a day of trashy TV and junk food and found their apartment empty. The dishwasher was empty, the bed was made, the soap was cleaned up and a note lay on the table.<p>

_Quinn,_

_Staying with Puck tonite. _

_Finn_

She knew she should be anxious and hurt, but instead she was livid that he was 27 years old and couldn't spell "tonight" properly. She was relieved to have the night alone to think, and felt guilty for the way her stomach unclenched when she knew she would be alone in their bed that night. She poured a glass of wine and considered her options for the evening.

She ran a bath and submerged her body in the steaming water, resting her wineglass on the side of the tub. The warmth of the bath and the glass and a half of wine she had consumed relaxed her. She leaned her head against the wall behind the tub and closed her eyes.

She thought about Rachel, who was so willing to listen to her the night before—even though it was Rachel's world that was falling apart. And she was willing to wait to go back to New York to help Quinn. Had Rachel always been like this? Kind and giving? She was still obnoxiously driven, and still very obsessed with her own talent…but Quinn wished Rachel could hold her hand through the process to come.

She drained her glass and settled back again. Maybe Brittany had a point—Quinn really had wanted to kiss Rachel, at least as far as she could remember. She took the soap in her hands and rubbed it into a lather before running her hands over her body. A _zing_ traveled through her as her palms grazed her nipples.

Her thoughts traveled back to Rachel. Why had she wanted to kiss her so badly? She could remember the way Rachel's cool hand felt on her warm, tear stained cheek, how natural it would have felt to just lean forward a little further and take one of those swollen lips into her mouth. Puck had mentioned she was a really good kisser…

Quinn's hands traveled further down, over her stomach, dipping into the water. She dragged her nails lightly over her thighs and all she could see was Rachel in her claret dress. Was she imagining the curve of Rachel's breasts, or had her cleavage really been so apparent? That thought sent her fingers upwards, inwards, tracing circles and then down and in and back out until she was furiously stroking between her legs, sending water over the edge of the tub. What if they had kissed? What if Rachel had dragged those small, soft hands through Quinn's hair or over her back? The thought of Rachel's mouth capturing the delicate nipple Quinn rolled in her own finger sent her over the edge.

It was the only orgasm she'd had since she'd been married—and it had been because of Rachel Berry. With this realization, Quinn cried until the water was cold around her and the candles lit on the counter had burnt to nothing.


	12. Chapter 12

The bottle beside her was almost empty when Quinn picked up her cell phone. She lifted the bottle to her lips and drained the dregs as she scrolled through her phone and looked for the number she wanted. She stopped on her mother's number and considered calling her and leaving her a very long, very detailed message that would be most decidedly un-ladylike, but instead she scrolled further.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was hoarse and hushed. Quinn could still hear traces of sleep.

"I miss you…" she slurred.

"I…I miss you too? Quinn…are you okay?"

"Are you still sad about Laura?"

Rachel was silent on her end of the line for a moment. "Of course I'm still sad, but that's just how things go sometimes—"

"I wish I could fix it for you. You're nice. She's obviously an idiot" Quinn sighed.

"That's very sweet Quinn but—"

"Remember when I tried to kiss you?" She interrupted.

"Quinn," she said delicately, "You don't sound like yourself. I think you might have been drinking. It's really late and you should go to bed."

"I keep thinking about you, Rachel…I don't know why. Santana and Britt asked if I was gay and I said no but I—"

"Quinn, honey, I'm going to go. I don't want either of us to say something we'll regret and this is a very new friendship and we're both hurting…I just want to be careful. There's…there is a lot at stake here."

"Please don't go," Quinn whined. "I…I'm all alone at my house and I don't want to get off the phone."

"I don't know, Quinn…"

"Will you sing to me?" And in that moment she had never wanted anything more than for Rachel to sing to her from 600 miles away. The irony escaped her alcohol-drenched brain.

"What?"

"Sing to me?"

"Okay…"

Quinn listened to the even keel of Rachel's breath as the song flowed from her mouth to Quinn's ears. Something about clowns and _don't bother they're here_ and it's so beautiful. Quinn fought her heavy eyelids to the end of the song and then Rachel started another, this one about people who need people and Quinn remembers it from when they watched _Funny Girl_. She let her eyes close then and fell asleep clutching the phone close and imagining that Rachel was beside her.

Quinn's phone vibrated in her hand around four in the morning. A text from Rachel flashed on her screen.

_Hey Quinn, I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Text me back so I know you haven't died of alcohol poisoning or choked on your own vomit. I sent you an email but I expect you won't read it until tomorrow. I'm here if you need me. Xoxo._

_I'm okay_, she sent back. _My head is killing me and I'm going back to sleep until I'm 30, but I'm okay. Thank you for checking._

She considered checking the email then, but the light from her phone was enough to trigger a migraine, so instead she rolled over and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Quinn smelled the bacon and eggs before she saw it. She cracked open one eye and saw Finn carrying a tray into the room. Her stomach churned.

"Mornin', sleepy," he announced cheerfully. "I made you breakfast!" And oh god, the smell of the bacon and the image in her head of runny yellow yolks nearly makes her sick right there. She gave him a small smile and tried to sit up.

"Thank you," she said as he sat down beside her. "You don't happen to have any painkillers on that tray, do you?"

"I have two next to the juice. I saw the bottle when I came in and checked on you when I got home."

_Oh. _He could be so thoughtful and sweet. Maybe she had this all wrong.

"You're a savior," she mumbled as she put the pills on her tongue.

"Quinn, I'm so sorry about yesterday. I just got so scared because I love you so much and I could feel you slipping away. When you didn't come home I could only imagine what it would be like if something really had happened. But I was being selfish and, ugh, just…I said a lot of stuff I shouldn't have. I guess not everything about being married is what I expected and…"

He continued and Quinn tried to nod in all the right places while she nibbled on the crust of a piece of toast. She was trying to remember the fight from the day before and why she had decided that divorce was the only option. Finn was great. He was handsome and sweet and thoughtful. He had a decent job. He would be a good dad. He wasn't grossly deformed. He loved her. He had all of the important qualifications…maybe she didn't need to love him.

And then they were kissing-his lips smacking wetly against hers and his large hands moving through her hair. She kissed him back and held his head in her hands, then let them travel down his back.

Fifteen minutes later and they were naked and he was pressing against her entrance. Her legs were wrapped around his hips and her eyes were shut tight.

She prayed.

_Please God, _she prayed. _Let me like this. Or tolerate this. Let this work so that my marriage can work. Please, God, let me see that he's a great man and let me love him. Please God, please…I don't want to be gay._

He shifted forward and she clamped down around him. He started to move slowly and she rocked against his hips. He was deep inside her, moving slowly and steadily and she was thrusting upward jerkily.

_Please, please, please. Make this work. Show me I didn't make a mistake._

But all she could hear was Rachel's voice '_you deserve so much more than good enough'_. Quinn bit down on his shoulder, '_so, so much more.' _And then it was Rachel's face and her voice and everything else felt so wrong. She wants something more than this and…god, she thought, she might want Rachel to be her more than good enough.

She pushed Finn away and just managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up.

When she shuffled back to bed Finn was on his back, staring at the ceiling. When Quinn got closer she could see the tracks tears had made down the sides of his face.

"We have to break up," she said flatly.

"You don't just _break up _a marriage," he argued. "We're supposed to try to fix it. We're supposed to do anything to fix it. We're supposed to struggle together to make it right. Til death do you part, remember? You promised!" He gulped back his sobs but they crashed down anyway and Quinn had never felt so helpless.

"We're just…not right for each other, Finn! I don't want to stay married," she said shakily. "I don't want to try to fix this. There isn't anything fixable. This isn't what I want. I really thought…I really thought that I would be happy and whole as a wife and this just isn't what's good for me Finn. I want to be in love with you, but…I'm not."

"How can you say that?" He shouted. "How can you say that without crying or shaking or anything? Do you even have a heart, Quinn? You're breaking mine right now and you're just fucking _standing _there! You're giving up on us—on everything we've had together since high school and you're just throwing it away! You're telling your husband that you don't love him anymore and you don't care!" She had never seen him cry like this. "You don't even fucking care!"

"I do care, Finn! Do you think I don't feel terrible about this? I feel awful! Imagine what my mother will say to me! And I'm going to lose Kurt, one of my _best friends _for divorcing his brother and, god, it's so embarrassing!"

"That's what you're worried about? Damn it, Quinn it's like nothing's changed since high school! It's all about status and reputation! You're worried about what people will say or do but you aren't worried that the decisions you're making right now will kick me out of your life! I've been here for almost ten years and you just want me out!"

"Finn," she said softly. "I'm going to miss you. No one knows me like you do, but you deserve someone who is going to love you for all that you are…not someone who is clinging to former glory."

"I'm just…I'm going to miss you so much, Q."

"I'll miss you, too."

It hurt so much more than she expected.

He hugged her then. He held her so tightly and her head pressed against his chest. She inhaled his smell, knowing she probably wouldn't ever find herself this close to him again.

Finn went out afterward while she started to pack. There was so much stuff in that apartment and she didn't know where she was going to go. She didn't want to make Finn pay for the next month's rent on his own either. So she just packed essentials in a suitcase. She considered calling Kurt, or her mother, or anyone else in Lima, but instead she sat at her computer and bought a non-refundable, one-way ticket to New York City without a second thought and she shoved Rachel's address in her purse.

Then she opened Rachel's email.

_Quinn,_

_I'm sorry we had such an awkward conversation last night. I know I was distant and probably a little rude and cold. I'd like to explain my reasoning to you but not over email. Just know that I really, truly care about you… more than you know. I understand if you're angry with me, but I'd really like to hear from you today. There's a lot I want to tell you but I don't know if now is the right time. Either way…I miss you, too._

_Rachel_

Quinn read the email on the way to the airport, as the plane taxied, as the plane landed, and in the taxi on the way to Rachel's apartment.

She rang the doorbell, rereading once more _"I really, truly care about you… more than you know."_


	13. Chapter 13

No one answered the door. Quinn hadn't even thought about checking Rachel's schedule or asking her when she worked or when her rehearsals were. Her calls to Rachel's phone went right to voicemail. Quinn parked herself on the steps of Rachel's apartment in Chelsea and waited. She watched the minutes tick by and found herself growing colder and colder on the stoop.

_This was a stupid idea_, she thought to herself as she leaned against the concrete entryway. Rachel might not want her there. Quinn could just imagine a look of bewilderment and frustration crossing Rachel's face when she saw Quinn looking desperate on her doorstep.

She could have gone anywhere. She had the flyer miles to meet Kurt in Milan if she wanted, or she could have crashed at Brittany and Santana's for the weekend—she could think of countless other options she had, but when her fingers had zipped her suitcase shut it was obvious where she wanted to be.

In trying times it is only natural to crave companionship, Quinn reasoned, half aware that the voice in her mind speaking those words was Rachel's. It sounded like something she would say anyway. It didn't mean that she was gay that she decided to seek out her best friend and wow, it still felt really bizarre to let _that_ thought process play out. Rachel Berry as her best friend. Rachel Berry as the person she runs to when her world falls apart. It's funny, in an ironic sort of way, that it's the only person who didn't really know her back then who can help her now.

It grew darker as the minutes slipped into hours and the adrenaline that landed her in New York began to wear off and reality started to set in. Here she sat, alone and unknown in the heart of the big city with only her suitcase and carry-on waiting for a girl she barely knew to save her from the life she wanted in the first place. She's going to have to call a lawyer and divide their joint assets and look for a new place to live. She's going to have to tell her mother. She's going to lose Burt and Carole and Kurt as in-laws and really that's one of the most difficult realizations They had become a surrogate family in the years following high school for Quinn and to lose them was to lose a set of parents.

But most of all she was losing her life. This was the life her parents had coached her for and encouraged above all else. This was the life that her hopes and dreams as a child had shaped. Everything she imagined, from the sweet but dopey husband to the delicate gold china pattern on her plates, was concrete now. It was within reach and she had had it all in her grasp and willingly let it go. All of this…the white picket fences and the diamond studded band around her finger and the safety and security of the suburbs with hopes for a family…this was supposed to bring her happiness. This life was supposed to bring her satisfaction and finally peace. Isn't this why she acted the way she did in high school? Isn't this why she made Rachel Berry's life a living hell—in order to secure Finn as the groom atop her wedding cake fantasy?

And now what? Now that it's all over? What else is there? If the life she had dreamed of and imagined for years made her just as miserable as she had been as the despondent ugly duckling or the angry head cheerleader, what other options were there?

Her phone buzzed endlessly in her pocket. Over and over the vibrations would jar her out of her thoughts. It was always Finn.

_Look, I don't care if we're just married by law and you want to date other people or anything. I just want you to come home._

_Please, Q. Where are you? Come home. I'm sorry._

_I can fix all of this if you let me. You know I want to make you happy. Just give me another chance._

_I can't believe you're just ignoring all of my calls and all of my texts. Where the fuck are you?_

_Are you serious? Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment? What did I ever do to you?_

And that's what sent a bolt of nausea through her. He hadn't done anything wrong. He had been exactly what she had hoped for. She had just never thought whether her hopes would be enough.

This was all too impulsive—just packing up her life and jetting off to New York? This was not behavior Quinn recognized as her own. She didn't have a plan for the next few days, or even the next few hours. What could she possibly expect from Rachel—an open invitation to live indefinitely with her in New York until Quinn cleaned up the mess she had made? This was a stupid decision. Quinn Fabray does not make snap decisions and change on a whim. Quinn Fabray does not just hop on a plane and kiss her old life goodbye. This was all too fast. She could get a taxi back to the airport and buy a ticket back to Ohio and go…somewhere else—somewhere more familiar. She could just go home back to Finn and figure out some way to grin and bear it until things got better, or at least fake it. This act of bravado and independence wasn't going to win her any medals from her mother.

It was decided, she would get in a cab, go back to the airport, purchase a ticket home and apologize. She loved Finn once—surely she could learn to do it again. Quinn rose and struggled to roll her suitcase down the steps of Rachel's building. The street was quiet—it would be difficult to hail a taxi if there weren't any coming. She stood at the curb with her arm raised high in the air waiting anxiously for someone to pull up and drag her back to her world.

Finally, after several minutes of shifting her weight and squinting into the darkness a cab pulled up in front of Rachel's building and she approached, ready to give the instructions that would put this whole string of events behind her. She stuck her hand out to pull open the door, but it opened before her fingers touched the handle.

"Quinn? What are you doing here?" Rachel stepped out of the cab looking equal parts shocked and worried.

"I was…it doesn't matter. I'm leaving now. I'm going back to the airport and flying back to Ohio," Quinn made the effort to climb in the cab.

"Quinn, it's late. You won't be able to get a seat on a flight that leaves tonight and, even if by some miracle there are tickets, they're going to be hugely overpriced. Just…come in and tell me what you're doing in the city. What's going on?"

"I don't want to impose on you, Rachel. I should just go—"

"Lady, you want a ride or not?"

"No, she'll be staying here, thank you. Quinn, get out of the nice man's cab so he can go pick up someone who doesn't have somewhere to stay for the night."

Rachel shut the door behind Quinn as she shifted out of the taxi and it sped off without a second thought.

"I was leaving, Rachel. I don't want to impose and I really, really shouldn't be here. I should go home to my husband and fix everything I've ruined today."

"Well," Rachel said, taking Quinn's suitcase and leading the way to the front door, "we can discuss that tomorrow after we've talked about what happened and you get a good night's sleep."

Quinn followed mutely behind.

* * *

><p>"So," Rachel asked as she set a steaming mug in front of Quinn, "tell me what happened." Quinn sipped silently at the tea and glanced around Rachel's living room before answering. The apartment was small, "cozy," Rachel had called it as she briefly showed her around. Quinn had expected that any home occupied by Rachel Berry would be organized and spotless, but Rachel's tiny two-bedroom apartment was cluttered and chaotic.<p>

"It doesn't usually look like this. Normally I'm very neat and orderly. I have a rigid cleaning schedule but since Laura's sudden departure many of my chores have fallen by the wayside. She made quite a mess packing and I—I just haven't had the opportunity to fix things up yet."

"It's okay," Quinn replied as one of Rachel's cats rubbed itself against her legs. "You don't have to apologize. I showed up uninvited—I should be apologizing to you."

"You don't need to apologize, either. I just wish I had been here earlier."

"I tried to call, but your phone went straight to voicemail."

"My phone died at rehearsal. How long have you been here?"

"I got in around 4…"

"PM?" Rachel exclaimed as another cat jumped onto her lap. "Oh Quinn, I'm sorry. I really wish I had been here for you. Do you want to talk about it?"

Quinn fiddled with her tea bag, "I left Finn this morning when he came home. We tried to talk and I tried to just accept things as they are and remember everything about him that made me so happy but I just…I couldn't. I told him I was done. I told him that I don't love him and that was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I threw away everything in a moment of panic and now I would do anything to turn it around. And when everything fell apart the first place I thought I should go is here, to you, in New York, which is probably the dumbest part of all because we've only seen each other once in nearly ten years!"

"I'm glad you're here," Rachel added softly. "I think being far away from the situation will give you some space to breathe and think about what your next course of action will be—"

"I have to go back to him, Rachel. That's the life I was meant to lead. I'm supposed to be a good wife, a good mother. I'm not supposed to jet off across the country in times of uncertainty. This isn't right."

"Is that what you want? If you want to stay married to Finn and go back to Lima tomorrow morning and pretend none of this ever happened, I'll support you…but I don't think that you would have done what you did if you weren't sure, deep down, of what it is that you want."

"I don't know what I want…"

"No one knows what they want, Quinn. I don't."

"Oh, don't give me that. Rachel Berry, you've known what you wanted to do with your life since you were a year old. You've known you were headed here to New York to bask in the bright lights of Broadway and you never let anyone stop you—"

"Do you think I planned to be gay? Do you think that was part of the arrangement?"

"What does that have to do with anything? It's not like it stopped you from living your dream in New York."

"Are you kidding? Quinn, it changed everything. My entire career trajectory has changed. If I want to be successful in this business, I can't be openly gay—"

"There are literally a hundred gay men on Broadway at once. Isn't it, like, the gay Mecca?"

"It's different for women. If I were to make it, really make it, and people found out that I'm a lesbian I would be overlooked for any part that producers and directors thought I wouldn't be 'feminine' enough to play. So much of being a woman in show business revolves around how much sex appeal they can squeeze out of you. My agent said that if I were to come out I would lose an entire demographic—"

"So your agent basically told you to stay in the closet for the duration of your career so that guys could pretend they had a chance of sleeping with you?"

"How else do you think producers try to get straight men to fill seats?"

"I still don't understand—"

"In the current climate, Quinn, I will never be able to fully be myself when on the job. When I accept my first Tony, I won't be able to thank my partner in my acceptance speech or kiss her when my name is announced. Any interview I'll ever give will have to be carefully constructed to avoid any indication of my sexuality. I've always wanted to be a star, Quinn, but I never thought that to shine in the spotlight I'd have to tuck so much of myself in the shadows."

"Then why are you still pursuing it?"

"Sometimes I don't know," she sighed. "Sometimes I think about the amount of competition in the field and the fact that I'm 26 and have yet to strike it big. It's so embarrassing to recall my declarations to the student body in high school that I would have a Tony by the time I turned 25. I'm nowhere close. Then when I think about how much I stand to lose if the truth about my life is revealed…sometimes it doesn't seem worth it. But being on that stage and hearing the applause, even if I have to share it, feels better than anything else I can imagine doing. I'm willing to fight the tough battles and swallow my disappointment and tread carefully because, right now, this is still what I want. I still want to perform. I love what I'm doing so much that I'm willing to take the less than ideal alongside my dreams."

Quinn considered this for a moment as she pieced together Rachel's not so subtle hints.

"If you're going to struggle, you have to make sure the end result is worth it. In the case of your marriage, Quinn…I have yet to see any evidence that you've found any joy in it. What would have to change for your marriage to be something worthwhile? How would Finn have to change to be the husband you look forward to spending time with at the end of a busy day? Nothing you have said about him since we started communicating more frequently would lead me to believe that you are happy with him."

"That's just it. There's nothing he could do differently because he hasn't done anything wrong. He's just…he's who he is. He's sweet, protective, caring, kind of dopey, a terrible speller, occasionally insensitive—but he comes by his flaws honestly. For our relationship to change I would have to change. I would have to make myself love him again—"

"You can't _do _that. It's not possible."

"Well, maybe I'm not trying hard enough," she argued as she pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers.

"That's dumb and you know it," Rachel proclaimed.

Quinn didn't respond.

"Look, all I'm trying to say is that if you decide to go back to Finn in the morning you should have a good reason for doing so other than a feeling of obligation. Your happiness is important, too."

Quinn knew she was right. She knew at her core that running back to the familiar streets of Lima Ohio into the arms of her high school boyfriend-turned-husband would squelch the fear of uncertainty and change clouding her mind at that moment, but that she had made this change for larger, more permanent reasons.

"If I don't go back tomorrow," she started carefully, "I would stay in a hotel."

"That's up to you, but you are more than welcome to use the spare room. It's really an office but it has a surprisingly comfortable futon."

"I don't want to intrude," she argued matter-of-factly.

"You aren't intruding. You're my friend. I'm glad you're here. I would love for you to stay, but I understand if you would be more comfortable somewhere else. I have to insist that you stay the night because it's late and I cannot allow you to wander the city alone at this hour, but we can discuss your options tomorrow morning over breakfast."

Quinn helped Rachel set up the futon in the office as the cats trailed behind them. Once the sheets were secure and pillows had been retrieved, Rachel wrapped Quinn in her arms.

"I'm really glad you're here. It was hard coming back to this empty apartment when I got back. It—it feels a lot better to know that I'm not alone."

She kissed Quinn's cheek before heading to her bedroom. Quinn tucked herself into the futon and pet the cat that curled next to her as she began to allow herself to imagine taking Rachel's offer to stay.


End file.
